it was so beautiful...
so many saplings...so many flowers...so much bloom.
a tree bloomed with it all.
until one day, without any rhyme or reason, they all continued to bloom...
and the tree withered.
a stump...
none of the others looked at the stump.
it faded into the color of their much-appreciated bloom, faded into the tint of their beauty, their being.
the stump kept fading.
people who visited the garden sometimes saw a stump on one corner and consciously walked away, their eyes disapproving.
they all grew up, bloomed.
the stump didn't grow up. it grew down. into itself, shrunken and vague, barely ever there. just that stump that everyone wanted out.
one day they all did conspire to uproot the stump.
people came along, they uprooted that horrible, wretched little stump.
put it alone in an isolated place, discarded.
through the cracks and fissures of the stump, other unwanted weeds began to grow, spread upwards, color it beautiful in a while.
it didn't take so long for that stump to become more beautiful than any flower in that garden.
that stump carried all the weight of disapproval for years, carried all the weight of isolation.
little did the stump know that once it was isolated, it grew best.
better than any of those flowers.
better than all the wonders of the world.
